


Wandering Child, O Come Home

by live_laugh_read



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Extrapolation, Future Character Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 06:37:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12765237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/live_laugh_read/pseuds/live_laugh_read
Summary: Susan finds her way back to Him, at last.





	Wandering Child, O Come Home

" _My wayward children," says the LORD, "come back to me, and I will heal your wayward hearts_."

 

(Jer. 3:22)

* * *

 

 

The shadows were lengthening: twilight was fading, the evening coming on.

 

Beside her bed, a young man sat hunched over, tracing the slender fingers with his own. If anyone else were to enter the room, they would not see him: only the old woman whose flesh and heart was failing, her mortal life beginning to cease.

 

Susan opened her eyes slowly, expecting to see, as she had grown accustomed to seeing over the last several days, the brown blur of her ceiling. Instead, however, she found that her vision possessed more clarity than she could remember having in recent years.

 

Startled, she turned her head, the young man looking up at a sudden spasm of her fingers. “Hello, Su,” he said, gently, almost as if he loved her. But no-one had loved her since… well, since 1949.

 

Her eyes stung with sudden tears, and she blinked rapidly. “Peter? You should not be here. You cannot be here.”

 

“I’ve come to take you home, Su.” Her long-dead brother stood, and a sudden shaft of bright sunlight through the window revealed the golden Lion stitched into the royal red of his tunic. For the first time, she saw the crown which rested atop his golden head.

 

Susan was shaking her head. “I lost faith long ago, Peter, before you and the others left. Aslan will not accept me There.”

 

The High King strode across the room to push the curtains apart, allowing the light to flood the room. “You are his Child, sister. Once a king or queen, always a king or queen. And He has sent me to bring you into His Country.” He turned. “Come.”

 

Almost as if by willpower, Susan found herself sitting up with ease, swinging her legs off the bed. Until now, she had not noticed the flowing skirt of gold and green, the bodice cinched tight about her torso, complete with a cloak the colour of the radiant southern sun.

 

Slowly, she took the hand that Peter offered and stood. She relaxed her shoulders and took a deep breath, meeting her older brother’s gaze. “I knew I was a fool, after you left.”

 

“Aslan knew you would come back to the path, in time,” said Peter. “You had to find it on your own – and you did.” Offering her his arm, he smiled for the first time. “May I escort you, my lady?”

 

“You may.”

 

Together they turned toward the door, which seemed to have grown from a simple wooden one into one wrought of mahogany, reminiscent of those at Cair Paravel. Somewhere on the other side, a long horn sounded, and the doors swung wide with unhurried grace.

 

Exchanging one more glance, the High King and Queen of Narnia stepped forward, and almost immediately Susan felt the whisper of grass as it brushed against her ankle. All about her was resplendence, a brighter and truer Narnia than the one she remembered.

 

As they walked, she saw Lucy come to her left, Edmund on Peter’s right, both dressed equally magnificently in royal Narnian dress, and Lucy’s hand grasped hers excitedly. Her siblings looked the ages they had been when they had left Narnia at the end of the Golden Age.

 

Ladies, gentlemen and Narnians of all species were bowing and curtsying, withdrawing to create a path for the Pevensies. The other three stopped when they came to two wearing the garb of a Lord and Lady, and with a start Susan realised they were her parents.

 

“Mother! Father!” She hugged them both, allowing the joy of their presence in Narnia to flood through her. “Welcome – belatedly – to Narnia!”

 

Her mother framed Susan’s face in her hands. “We are so proud of you, dear Susan.”

 

Inclining her head, Susan withdrew to rejoin her siblings, and turned at the sound of another long horn-blast towards the Stone Table upon the hill.

 

There, incandescent in the glory of His Father, stood the great Lion. His eyes were soft, and Susan swore she could see a smile gracing his large jaw. “Wandering child, come home,” said He, and she broke away from the others, picking up her skirts and running.

 

It felt like fulfilment, to throw her arms about His neck, press her face into His mane, feel her tears flow as, finally, her heart became whole again.

 

When she broke away, sinking into a deep curtsey, he rumbled, “Child, arise. All who lives in Me and believes in Me shall never die.”

 

“But I strayed, Aslan,” she said, feeling the shame wash through her. “I did not believe.”

 

“But you found Me again. And I never left you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by the Christian hymn referenced in the title, "Wandering Child, O Come Home." 
> 
> _Have you wandered away from your Father's care,  
>  heavy hearted and sad do you roam?  
> There's a sweet gentle voice calling now to you -  
> Wand'ring child, wand'ring child, o come home._
> 
> _Child, come home, child come home,  
>  Wand'ring child, why longer roam?  
> 'Tis thy Father entreats -   
> Wand'ring child, o come home._


End file.
